


Vogue With It

by TheKiwiBird



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Crossdressing, M/M, the cute shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 00:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13693440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKiwiBird/pseuds/TheKiwiBird
Summary: Mini-sequel to Roll With It. Fandango can't believe how flawlessly gorgeous Breezey is in his 'disguises'. He just has to know when it all started.





	Vogue With It

“So when did you, like, start?”

Fandango sat patiently, resting his fork on his plate as Tyler looked up from his plate.

They had gotten in the habit of eating breakfast together in their shared hotel room the last few weeks, mostly for Tyler’s comfort. It gave the blond man a chance to relax, wear whatever he wanted. This morning, he had opted for a blue flowing blouse, knee-length black pencil skirt, and knee high wool socks in the same shade of blue as his blouse. He’d opted to merely tie his hair up in a ponytail, instead of wearing one of his many wigs.

Fandango enjoyed having the view all to himself, frankly. Everything Tyler picked accentuated every inch of his body in the most flattering ways, even if the clothing was originally made to fit a more feminine form.

“...start...wrestling? Start...modeling? Start what? Hello?”

Fandango blinked and refocused; he’d been staring again.

“Ugh, sometimes you're too much.” Tyler chuckled. “I wish I had known how much you like looking at me in my disguises, I would have done this sooner.”

“Sorry, Breezey. You just make it work so well, I can't help but look. It's just uncanny.”

Tyler puffed up, a haughty look crossing his features. He loved to be admired, that was for certain. “Well, not everybody has perfect bone structure like I do.”

“More like nobody else does except you.”

“Don't sell yourself short like that, Dango. While you're not as perfect as I am, you certainly aren't too far off, and you carry yourself so flawlessly that I didn't even notice your incredibly minute flaws until I sat down and stared for a very long time.” Tyler shrugged. “It's mostly just little tiny freckling patterns, anyways. And the hairline on the back of your head is ever-so-slightly crooked. But really, the untrained eye wouldn't even notice and it's fixable.”

Fandango smirked; even listening to Tyler speak about how precisely imperfect he was in the eyes of his younger company was sensational. Tyler was born with the inhuman ability to see everything in a purely aesthetic light and it was awe-inducing.

“But you don't have to, of course. I don't mind. Makes me look even more flawless when standing next to you.”

Fandango rolled his eyes. “You're avoiding my question, Breezey.”

“What even was your question?”

“I wanted to know when you started dressing in your disguises. Because I mean, I look great, but I've never thought of dressing up like that, so I just wanna know when you did.”

“Oh! Alright. Well,” Tyler set his own fork down, then sat more upright. “do you want the long story or the short story?”

“Whatever you wanna tell me. We’re partners, but if you think I'm getting too personal too quickly...I mean, I just found out about the disguises a few weeks ago, and you were really nervous about that…”

“Well, now that I know that you like it, I don't mind talking about it, Dango.” Tyler smirked. “I'm actually surprised you waited this long to ask.”

“Oh...my bad.”

“It’s okay. I'll tell you the long story if you're ready.”

“Always.” Fandango grabbed a nearby pillow and got comfortable.

“Well, okay...it all started...wow, like, a decade ago now. When I was modeling full-time, before I got bored and decided to become the world’s most gorgeous professional wrestler.”

“Oh wow, that long ago?”

“I feel so old saying that word, ‘decade’. That's like, more than ten years ago.”

“Yeah, but you still look way better than those guys on the runways.”

“I know! They started hiring the uggos to make their slightly less uggo suits look acceptable at least five years ago. Armani...sheesh.” Tyler shook his head. “Where was I?”

“Decade.”

“Oh, right! So!” Tyler clapped his hands. “I was in Milan during Fashion Week, and the paparazzi were being so...vulture-y. Like Big E around a stack of pancakes. So me and a few of the guys wanted to go walk around instead of being cooped up in our hotel rooms. But we didn't wanna deal with the vultures getting all gossipy about what models were there for the show, so we had to think of something.”

“Oh…”

“So Georgio, our stylist l, suggested we get some of the wigs from his case and we could dig out some of his last year’s fashions and nobody would dare think it was any of us.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“So I got a black bob wig, like Uma from Pulp Fiction, and this flower blouse and some baggy jeans, and these crazy chunky heels and these biiiig sunglasses...I looked horrible, like I just walked out of The Gap or something, total low-end retail. I figured that nobody would even try to say it was me because it was all women’s fashion anyways. But Georgio loved the idea, let me keep the stuff in the end. But I got out there, and not a single paparazzi recognized me.”

“Whoa. Disguise on the fly and it worked…”

“I know, right?! I even went into my favorite coffee shop and nobody knew it was me. So I figured I'd just, like, use my falsetto to talk, and nobody even looked at me funny. I just...looked right to them. And I didn't feel weird at all about it. So I got my latte and I just chilled out, and like, I almost forgot to change out of everything before the show. It was really...weird? But not weird. Ya know?”

“Kinda. Like, the first time I wore my cop hat it was weird, because I work really hard on my hair. But now I wear it all the time.”

“Yeah, it's like that!” Tyler nodded and grinned.

“I totally get it now!” Fandango clapped.

“Cool, cool!”

“So, uh, was that it?” Fandango shifted, getting completely entranced by the tale...even a bit worried that it was over.

“Oh, no no. I didn't do it again until I was by myself. Had my assistant go out and get some discount stuff at first, just a few dress blouses, long skirts, leggings, jackets, stuff that would totally hide anything. But I got really comfortable after a while, so I started wearing leggings and dresses and comfy shoes and stopped wearing jackets.”

“They all look good on you though.”

“I know! In fact, I really liked the tights. In fact, that's kinda why I wanted to wrestle. I can wear tights all the time now, and nobody can say anything about it.” 

“I'm glad you decided to become a wrestler.”

“I'm glad I did too. I don't think I would've met you if I didn’t.”

“Me neither. And you've been one of the greatest people I've ever met.”

Tyler looked away, trying not to blush. “I agree. You make me feel really comfortable, and I like that.”

“I'm glad I can make you feel that way.”

Tyler blushed hard, leaning forwards and tightly hugging Fandango. “You’re the best.”

Fandango hugged back, pulling Tyler close. “You too, partner.”

The blond rested his head in the crook of Fandango’s neck, humming softly. It was quite nice to be close to a partner, to have that level of trust. He certainly understood that Tyler didn’t feel it often enough, and frankly, neither did he.

They both sat in their embrace for a while, until Fandango caught sight of a clock. “Oh! It’s almost lunchtime! Hurry Breezy, we need to finish breakfast or it’s gonna go bad!”

Tyler shook from his reverie, then frowned. “Yeah, yeah. Right.”

Fandango calmed, realizing Tyler was upset. “...or, we could skip finishing breakfast and just...hug more?”

Tyler’s face twisted into a mild pout. “...Please?”

Fandango exhaled softly, letting a smile melt onto into his features. “Sure.” Fandango leaned forwards, reapplying his warm embrace.

...did they have a match tonight? It almost didn’t matter. Fandango didn’t want to move until Tyler wanted to.


End file.
